Chapter 5
JANIE
There’s so much electricity in the air that I can hardly breathe. Can Brent feel it too? But I can’t exactly ask him, so I bite my lip as we file into the theater. We sit in a row: Hillary, Randy, me, and Brent. I’m so glad that I’m not sitting next to Hillary. The blonde is such a bitch, like I’m a C-grade substitute for her friend Amy. Get a grip, lady. Life doesn’t always turn out the way you want it to.
The movie theater is almost empty, and I wish Brent and I could just sit in a different row altogether. But oh well. Like I said, life doesn’t always turn out the way you want it to. Besides, we’re meant to be on a double date, so it’d be a little weird if Brent and I took ourselves off.
The film begins and I recognize it as a well-known part of an action franchise, but I couldn’t care less. The only thing I care about, or am aware of, is Brent’s intoxicatingly masculine scent on my left. I’m still stunned at the incredible chemistry we had in front of the movie theater, waiting for the others to show up. Never have I connected with a guy in this way before. Especially not in such a short period of time. And especially not a guy like this! I’ve dated some guys in college, even slept with a few, but they don’t seem to be very interested in buying the cow after they’ve already gotten the milk. It sucks, to be honest, and I don’t want to do that again.
So yeah, it’s been a good few months since I’ve had any dates and instead, I’ve been throwing myself into my studies, even carrying extra credits. But it’s all getting a bit stressful. It’s the main reason I’ve had such a hellish week and I’ve wanted to shut myself in my room with Netflix and cheesecake. But instead I’m here in this movie theater, sitting next to the most gorgeous guy I’ve ever seen. And certainly the most gorgeous guy who’s ever even looked at me, let alone shown interest in me. Unless Brent’s just being polite? But surely not. Not with how much he’s been sharing with me, how earnest he seems.
I can feel the soldier breathing next to me, the warmth of his arm just half an inch away from mine. His leather jacket is off, draped over the back of his seat and I’m painfully aware of the size of his biceps and pecs, even though I'm not even looking at him. My eyes are watching the moving images, but not seeing them. Suddenly I feel fingertips on leg. My heart beats fast until I realize it’s my right leg. Fuck! Is it Randy? Horrified, I look his way in the darkness, and of course, the dirty dude is watching the movie like nothing’s wrong. Gross! How can he do this? His girlfriend is mere inches away on his other side.
Instinctively, I shrink away from him, not taking my eyes off the screen, until I’m practically scrunched up against Brent. It’s so inappropriate. I’m practically in Brent’s lap now but I don’t care how peculiar this is because it’s better than being touched by Randy. Cowering in my seat, I try and relax and little, but it’s futile because at that moment, I feel Randy’s wandering fingers again. Shit! This time, Mr. Super-Lech is sliding his hand up my knee and under my skirt.
Disgusted, I shrink away towards Brent again. But this time, the hand doesn’t go away, instead inching up my skirt even further. I clamp down at it to firmly push it away.
“Oh shit, sorry,” rasps Brent in a harsh whisper. “I thought …”
Confused, I look down at my lap: the hand I’ve got clamped in my fist isn’t Randy’s at all, but Brent’s! I look up into his face, which is flushed with a combination of careful lust and shy guilt, like a little boy caught with his hands in the cookie jar. Again, I melt inside. I shake my head, unable to tell him it’s okay, because my throat is so dry. I release my grip on his hand and gently put it back where he was going: up my skirt. The moving images on the screen are reflected in the depths of his eyes, his irises so large as he stares at me that they’re almost black. He lowers his face to mine and our lips almost touch, his hot breath on my mouth as if waiting for permission. Then his other hand rises up to cup my neck, and he pulls me towards him, crushing his lips against mine.
My heart stops beating. His kiss is urgent and rough and at the same time gentle. I allow him to part my lips with his tongue and feel my body responding instantly to the crush of his open mouth. Lifting my hand up to his jaw, I run my hand across his stubble towards the back of his head, feeling my fingers through the soft black hairs. His hand goes further up my dress and his fingers find my drenched pussy - oh god, how embarrassing! But it only seems to drive him wild. He groans quietly into my mouth and I feel his breath quickening as he lowers his hand from my face to my chest, cupping one of my boobs, grazing my nipple with his thumb. It’s my turn to moan now, and I instinctively pivot my hips forward a little, allowing him access to my pussy.
With gentle but eager fingers, he finds his way into my panties, and I moan quietly as he lightly caresses my clitoris. Oh fuck! It feels so good and I swallow a hungry mewl. I run my hand from his hair down his strong pecs and his washboard belly, which are starkly obvious through the cotton of his shirt. Suddenly my hand is resting on the bulge in his jeans, causing him to bite down suddenly but gently on my lip. There’s a sudden explosion on the screen, drowning our muffled cries. I quickly glance next to me - somehow Randy and Hillary seem to have no idea what we’re getting up to and are lost in the film. Thank god. At the very least, the sheer noise and excitement in the film are masking any noises we might be making.
I turn back to Brent, who’s kissing me again before his mouth moves down to my neck and boobs. He pulls down the hem of my dress and begins circling his tongue around my nipple. Holy shit, is this really happening? Are Brent and I doing the heavy feel in a public theater, with people mere inches away?
But it’s true. The excitement only makes me more aroused and I mewl silently against his hair again. My hand plays with the zipper on his jeans, managing to open it despite my fumbling fingers. Because oh god, his fingers are now not just on my clit but have slid in between my slippery folds, and into my creaming cunt, where they’re moving in and out. Holy shit, I’m being finger-fucked in public! As if in retaliation, I reach into his fly, groping at the rock-hard rod that fills my entire palm. I manage to fumble it out as he groans, and oh fuck, but he’s pulsing and wet with pre-cum already.
Tentatively, I give it a few gentle jerks. He groans into my mouth again, pushing his fingers deeper into my cunt - and onto my g-spot. I moan in ecstasy, sure this time that we’ll be caught. But no one seems to notice. Hillary and Randy are laughing at something on screen now … leaving my lover and I to our naughty play.